


The Sherlock Anomaly

by ImpishTubist



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-09
Updated: 2011-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-23 14:14:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpishTubist/pseuds/ImpishTubist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lestrade drinks and tries to teach physics, John is amused, and Sherlock is never very far from the topic of conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sherlock Anomaly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sidney Sussex (SidneySussex)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SidneySussex/gifts).



> Written for Sidney Sussex. Extreme nerd-ery ahead. Full Author's Notes at the end.
> 
> Timeline: Set sometime between the series one finale and July 2011.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The conversation that night came around, as it always did, to Sherlock.

“I don’t understand,” John moaned, dropping his head into his hands, “how he manages to wreak so much havoc. It’s like - like he’s at the center of a vortex of mayhem and destruction and - mayhem.”

They had been at the pub for a few hours already, and drink was starting to take a toll on John’s vocabulary, which he freely admitted was already quite limited (except for a broad range of curses). Lestrade, seated next to him at the counter, simply hummed in agreement.

“Trying to understand Sherlock,” Lestrade said seriously, “is like trying to understand why the _Pioneer_ spacecraft have veered off course.”

John - unsuccessfully - stifled a snort and ended up choking on his drink. Lestrade thumped him hard on the back and, when it was apparent that John would not die, looked highly offended.

“Sorry, Greg,” John rasped quickly, hiding his laugh in his drink. “It’s just - your inner nerd is making an especially blatant appearance tonight.”

He took a long drink from his glass and set it loudly on the table. “All right, go on. Tell me how Sherlock is like a spaceship.”

“ _Craft_ ,” Lestrade corrected hotly, pointing a wavering finger at him. Briefly, John wondered how many the DI had had, and then realized that he himself was probably little better off. It hardly mattered. Lestrade drunk was little different from Lestrade sober, except that his movements got more exaggerated and he had a habit of drawing those around him into deep discussions involving physics, philosophy, and sometimes the occasional duck. It was probably the only reason Sherlock had agreed to attend the NSY Christmas party last year. He maintained that drink made the DI almost bearable to be around for extended periods of time. “ _Pioneer_ , 10 and 11. First man-made objects to venture beyond the solar system. They’re still out there - ‘bout 70 AU away at this point - and they’re off their predicted course. Not by much - only four hundred kilometers a year, which is barely a hair’s breadth out in deep space - but just enough to be noticeable.”

John smiled to himself - he didn’t understand half of what came out of Lestrade’s mouth when he got onto these tangents, but the man’s enthusiasm was infectious. Lestrade waved a hand impatiently.

“Anyway, point is - we know how gravity works. Or we know how we think it’s supposed to work, at any rate. And we should be able to use that information to predict where the spacecraft will go. There are only a certain number of forces that can act on them out in deep space, and all of those can be calculated and measured. And they have been.”

“So...” John prompted, because Lestrade had stopped and was contemplating his drink with great interest.

“Right, sorry,” Lestrade said, shaking his head. “Long story short, they’re drifting off course. Not by a lot, but there’s something out there that’s pulling them a bit closer to the sun. It’s a big puzzle. All the components on the spacecraft have been accounted for - there’s no leaking heat or malfunctioning parts that would account for the change in trajectory."

“And...what’s that mean?” John said, still failing to see the connection to Sherlock.

“Gravity wasn’t - or isn’t - working right for the spacecraft. Basically, we’d have to rework the foundation of physics in order to understand why these spacecraft are behaving the way that they are.” Lestrade stopped again and stared at his half-finished drink. “When did I order this?”

“Right, so,” John said slowly, trying to see the connection through his own haze of drink, “in order to understand Sherlock...we’d have to redefine gravity.”

“Yes - wait, no!” Lestrade waved a hand. “We’d have to redefine humanity.”

“Oh, right.” John paused, and then said, “Wait, no, still lost. Sorry.”

“Just - look, gravity behaves a certain way, right? Hasn’t yet been proven wrong; we haven’t yet had someone throw a ball in the air that doesn’t come down. So - humans are the same way.” Lestrade gestured carelessly in the air; John was mesmerized for a moment by his hands. “We all behave in certain and - er - predictable, that’s the word, predictable ways. There’s always a degree of, of variation, but there are certain rules that can be applied to all. And - and then along comes Sherlock, and all those definitions get thrown out the window. See? Redefine humanty - er, humant - uh, people.”

Lestrade nodded firmly to himself, apparently pleased with having finished his thought somewhat coherently.

John sat for a moment in quiet thought, and then shook his head. He reached over and squeezed Lestrade’s knee. “Greg, love, I think that made more sense in your head than it does out loud.”

Lestrade gave a small, “Hmmph,” and knocked back the rest of his drink.

“Not my fault you don’t understand physics,” he grumbled finally. John smirked.

“I’m not exactly sure that you do either,” he muttered, and were Lestrade sober that remark would have earned him a deathly glare and a night on the couch.

But drink made the DI terribly forgiving, and after a moment he simply shrugged and found John’s hand with his own.

“He’s all right, though, isn’t he?” Lestrade said finally. “Sherlock.”

“Yeah. He’s still a mad bastard, but he’s all right,” John said with a small smile. He could almost forgive the man for the decomposing mouse he’d found in a cupboard that morning.

Almost.

“Come back to mine tonight?” Lestrade asked quietly, breaking him from his thoughts. John nodded and gave the hand a quick squeeze.

“Of course. You can teach me all about...physics.”

Lestrade pulled a face and raised an eyebrow. On anyone else it would have looked ridiculous, but somehow the man managed to pull off disgusted and exasperated all at once.

“Let’s never call it that again, all right?” he groaned, leaning over to plant a quick kiss on the corner of John’s mouth. “ _Please._ ”

“Fine by me,” John said, hopping off the bar stool and offering a hand to his unsteady friend. “But only if you promise, for the rest of the evening, not to do so much as think the word ‘Sherlock.’”

The corner of Lestrade’s mouth curved upward - God, but how John loved that smile - and he stole another kiss, this one a good deal less chaste than the first. “I think I can handle that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Final Notes: The [Pioneer Anomaly](http://www.popsci.com/pioneeranomaly) was, for thirty years, a real cosmic mystery. Funnily enough, in the short time this has been sitting on my hard drive, it’s gone and[ been solved](http://www.popsci.com/science/article/2011-07/mystery-pioneer-anomaly-solved-last) (go figure), so we’ll have to assume John and Lestrade had the above interaction prior to July 2011. I took a few liberties with how the phenomenon actually works (call it artistic license) but anyone interested can follow the above links to learn more. I also highly recommend Michael Brooks’ _13 Things That Don’t Make Sense_ , which, in addition to explaining the phenomenon more thoroughly, is overall a great read.


End file.
